(Too much) Pride and Prejudice
by Enterpraise
Summary: When an entourage of Ereborean dwarves nests themselves in Netherfield Park, Bilbo Baggins finds that pride and prejudice are two things that can be deadly and at the same time life changing. Pride and Prejudice AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Welcome or not, we have come.**

* * *

Bilbo Baggins was the second oldest son of the bookish, and well-mannered Bungo Baggins and his loving, assertive, and loud wife, Belladonna Took nee Baggins. He had four other siblings whose personalities were as differentiating as black and white, and whose appearance were as contrasting as the four seasons brought upon Middle Earth. Tauriel was the oldest of the Baggins siblings, adopted by Bungo when she was of the wee elvish age of one hundred. She was held in high respect and adored by all. Inheriting beautiful long, copper hair and starting hazel eyes from her blessed genetically Elvish parents, Tauriel was the shining star of the Baggins family and Belladonna's own hope for marriage.

Then there was Bilbo, the wanderer-even though Tauriel, on most occasions, often joined him in traversing, safely, in the Greenwoods and traveling to the nearby human settlement of Dale for a cheap pint. Belladonna had informed Bilbo of his striking similarities to her in his mother's youth, before the burden of raising five children and a husband bore down upon her back too heavily. There was a wistfulness in her voice as she watched Bilbo yank his floppy hat over his sun kissed curls he got from the Tookish side; it was as if it was she who wanted to travel, to go on adventures. However, Belladonna made due with letting her well loved son discover new treasures for it was he who had a whole life ahead of him, not Belladonna. She was content with reliving her adventurous youth through her son's properly groomed hobbit feet.

Following the two elders there was Rose and Ivy Baggins, both Bilbo's undeniably energetic and hopelessly adolescent little sisters who had a knack for whistling raunchy tunes at innocent passerbys and squealing like the teenage hobbit lasses they were whenever Calibrus Brandybuck sneezed. Lastly, and with little to no fanfare, was Lavender Baggins. Calm and collected, sour and silent, her name seemed to fit her, but to Belladonna's amusement (and horror) and Bungo's near apoplexy fit when she first began her queer transition, Lavender only seemed to care for the color black, the indoors, dark and boorish poetry, and singing-Bilbo should say _trying_ to sing.

Him and Bungo were two kindred spirits in a house of compromising of four pig-headed (at times), strong willed women and young ladies and two tired men who had their own strengths and weaknesses to match their beloved ladies'. Bilbo had long grown used to his sisters and caged in mother's longing sighs. One thing he did most certainly not grow used to was his mother's never ending nagging about his martial status and: "that baby-maker is not getting any more fertile as the years dwindle down, Bilbo!-Bella!, cried Bungo, scandalized-so you better hurry up and find a comely broad before I find one for you!"

It had all started when he had turned twenty-five and now that he was thirty-three, of age, the persisting and pressuring only worsened.

Bilbo was not the only one under the great pressure to fornicate a prosperous marriage by his hobbit mother though, Rose and Ivy were apart of the harassment as well. Tauriel, even though she towered over her family and all of Hobbiton, was constantly harangued by Bungo to go out and socialize. Belladonna had insiders knowledge of how sacred marriage was to the Eldar from her past excursions and all but ignored any semblance of marriage when it came to her beautiful elven daughter.

It had been one enjoyable day in the Shire, sometimes called Derbyshire by the Man folk because of a delightful hard cheese made by the old Underhill Clan's Chieftess, when Bilbo had been extremely fed up with his mother's cajoling, his sisters' damnable screeching they called 'harmoniously singing hymns to Yavanna', and his father's push over attitude. He had all but stormed from the house in a reasonably tailored burgundy coat-his family, while not filthy rich, was incredibly well off-and trudged over to the Brandywine river in search for some solace. Granted, when Bilbo arrived to the light and soothing body of water, he was rudely interrupted by the sound of heavy trampling upon the Shire's bountiful soil and rough, harsh syllables being shouted out in a commanding tone that shook Bilbo's bones.

The hobbit quickly scurried to his feet and dashed off towards his smial. Bilbo caught glimpses of silver, reflections of deadly weaponry, in the hands of many gruff looking warriors, but none seemed to be preparing for combat. They were simply guarding. Guarding what?, Bilbo pondered rapidly as he all but charged through the painted circular green door leading into Bag End.

"Mam!" Bilbo shouted, watching his step as he almost tripped over Tauriel's infernal boots. "Mam! There are _dwarves_ in the Shire!" He informed, excitement and shock noticeable in his tone.

Belladonna all but swooped down the hallway, Rose's poor ear trapped in a nasty looking hold between her feisty mother's fingers. "Are you positive?" She yelled back, her own enthusiasm and surprise ringing through the hobbit hole with vigor.

Leaving Rose to her own freedom and devices, Bilbo's mother hurried off to interrogate her husband on the matter of dwarves in the Shire and how she could use that to get rid of one or two of her precious gems.

Rose hemmed and hawed over her twisted ear for a moment before giving her brother a once over and sneering. "Bilbo dearest, you need a bath and a good wash of laundry." She pointed out without filter. "You look terrible."

With an unamused snort and a reprimanding glare that had no effect on his brash sister-he should stay sisters-Bilbo picked at specks of dirt on his coat while looking at his sister. "Mind your manners, Rose. Grandpapa Baggins would be appalled, and I look perfectly acceptable, thank you." Even though Bilbo knew he looked utterly unacceptable.

"Yes, dear brother Bilbo, Grandpapa Baggins would be so distraught at my crass he would probably bend over and die,"

From the end of the smial, Bungo shouted Rose's name in appall.

Huffing in amusement, Rose turned back to Bilbo from where she had turned around to yell right back at her proper father. "But Grandpapa Took would give me all the treats that I desired."

There was nothing Bilbo could say to that fact, so he conceded to his sister's sketchy point and walked off to the bathroom to scrub himself clean whilst his pestering but well meant mother hounded her husband on the latest news concerning dwarrows and dwarrowdams.

* * *

"They are headed to Netherfield Park right outside of Hobbiton!" Announced Ivy at dinnertime, earning her the attention of the entire family.

"And how came you by this, Ivy?" Tauriel asked kindly but with a steel undertone. It was no secret the eldest sister did not approve of her younger's dalliances and gossiping, but then, neither did Bilbo or his parents.

Ivy did not cower but threw her chin up and rested her fork upon her plate. "Primula and I found out from those hennish matrons from the Whitfoot clan while they were getting their curls permed that the dwarves Bibi-"

"Do _not_ call me by that dastardly nickname, Ivy!" Bilbo growled and soon thought that instigating a food fight by pummeling his sister with pickled beets sounded amazing.

Rolling her eyes, Ivy continued, "The dwarves that Bibi saw were from Erebor!" Startled gasps echoed around the table except for Tauriel, who remained silent as ever. Belladonna and Bilbo were the only one who noticed the tense shoulders and grim line of their Elvish kin, but they made no mention, that would be saved for later. "Apparently, it is a royal entourage carrying one of the crown prince and the King Under the Mountain himself!" Ivy crowed.

Lavender scowled. "What business does the famous dragon slayer have in the Shire? Does he not have a kingdom to run?"

Rose herself just waved her sister's rationality off with a flick of her wrist. "Now now, sister. Never mind the politics, let us focus on the more important aspects of this royal visit: a prince!" She grinned impishly before tilting her head to the side in contemplation. "And an unmarried king who killed a dragon."

Watching her children, save for Bilbo and Tauriel, bicker and debate about the chances of gaining the favor of a dwarven king and prince, Belladonna looked at her husband from slit eyes.

"Find out from the Thain when the welcoming ball is, darling." She said, not needing to demand.

Taking a large sip from his filled to the brim wine glass, Bungo nodded in reluctance and set the glass down carefully. "As her majesty commands me, I shall do." He replied with a small smirk-as much of a smirk his Baggins side would allow him.

Bungo's treasured wife and best friend smiled widely before blowing him a kiss that had Lavender making faux gagging noses and Rose giggling.

"Father, let us not be haste." Bilbo mumbled as he set his own wine glass down. "Wait until the morn of the third day, then send the letter." His father gave him a strange look before smiling.

"Oh yes, let those wretched Sackville-Baggins get the title of the Shire's most desperate. That is to say if their incredible,"

"Unmatched," Bilbo supplied sarcastically.

"Never ending racial prejudice does not get the better of them." Bungo finished with a grimace.

Bilbo shook his head and scrapped the leftover potatoes he did not want back into the original glass bowl, ignoring Lavender's pleads of 'that is unsanitary!' with practiced ease. "Please father, let us be frank. Dwarven royal entourages including a prince and the famed Thorin II Dragonslayer? Pah, racial prejudice!"

"Let us remember, boys," Spoke up Belladonna from the other head of the table. "That where there is prejudice, there is no small amount of pride. The Sackville-Baggins might not wait as long as we, but they will put off the letter for a day or so."

Bungo nodded solemnly and opened his mouth to tack on an additional few words to complete the hidden parental lesson but Tauriel effectively cut him off by collecting her and Bilbo's plate and storming off to the kitchen, head and legs bent as always.

An awkward silence came over the table at Bag End until Rose coughed deliberately, elbowing Ivy until the hobbit lass screeched at her to stop. Belladonna and Bungo shared a withered glance at the two fifteen year old fauntlings and at each other until Lavender had silenced the pair with a eerie gaze.

"Well," remarked Bungo. "I was going to say how in Bag End, there is no such thing as racial prejudice but I am afraid I had forgotten all about that silly ole Elvish-Dwarven spat."

Belladonna scoffed. "Dearest husband, do not behave so ignorantly. The Baggins are some of the most prejudiced hobbits I know and you of all people should know that what you call a 'spat' is centuries old, unforgiving to both parties because there was none whom were innocent contrary to popular belief, and deeply rooted into their education and culture." She took a deep breath.

Interests piqued and curiosity captured, Bilbo pulled back his seat and trotted over to the kitchen silently, tuning out his parent's scholarly arguments about Doriath and Nogrod and patiently watching Tauriel scrub his and her dishes with powerful strikes.

"My sister, what avails you?" Bilbo spoke, his concern true and brows furrowed. It was unlike his elvish sister to be angry. "Tell me for I wonder and worry."

"It is no concern of yours, Bibi," Bilbo groaned at the nickname but bristled at the exclusive tone. "Be at peace, my anger comes from deep within my soul. This is something I cannot control as it has been passed down to me unwillingly." Tauriel admitted with a perturbed expression. "I do not like having this grudge fester inside of me without my permission."

Grinning because the love for his sister spanned millions of forests wide, Bilbo chuckled unabashedly. "Mad at your ancient elvish ancestors for not giving you your own chance for gathering an opinion on the dwarves? Oh, Tauriel, that is simply you."

The elvish lass dressed in a homely blue dress in hobbit fashion with a fishtail braid ending with a solid jade ribbon and a white apron, Belladonna's, with frills on the edge shrugged. "Would you not be pissed off if that happened to you?"

"Language," Bilbo admonished jokingly as Tauriel rolled her eyes.

"Oh hush you." She retorted.

While his chuckling gave way to laughing and his sense of duty led him towards the counter to dry, Bilbo looked out the window with an easy smile. His sister had an introverted nature and flat out refused to share her inner emotions with anybody excluding Bilbo. Needless to say, it made the young gentlehobbit endlessly happy when she opened up; even a cracked smile, or a poorly hidden giggle made Bilbo, in turn, feel relieved. Tauriel would live much longer than any of the hobbits in the Shire. She would live until the call of the sea enveloped her and lead her towards Valinor.

Bilbo saw the deep sadness in the elven lass's eyes whenever she watched them, perching herself in a tree like a silent guardian, one hand on the hidden dagger underneath her dress and another on the bow she had acquired before Belladonna found her a midst carnage near the Greenwoods. Elves lived forever; immortal were their souls and bodies versus the undeniably mortal lives of hobbits.

'Never mind all of that dreadful philosophy of the fragility of life!' Bilbo scolded himself as he dried the last fork. 'There are much more important things happening in the present to be dallying about in the future.'

"Bibi!" Screamed Ivy from the dining room. "Tell Lavender to stop staring at me! It's unnerving and weird that's what it is!" His little sister cried out dramatically.

"Go on then, Bilbo. Try and outmatch Lavender's glare of Mordor." Rose clucked her tongue as she sashayed into the kitchen. "And don't tell her I said that or I'll find a way to beat yer butt." Bilbo's little sister threatened before snaking her arms around Tauriel and giving her elder sister and hug.

Sighing once more, Bilbo left the kitchen to play the mediator between the ever clashing Lavender and Ivy before his mother lost her nerve.

It was just another regular day in Bag End.

* * *

Bilbo and Bungo stood outside of the Thain's offices, a large building, above ground, that was built with the help of the Rangers and a few dwarves from the Blue Mountains quite some time ago. In his father's hand was the letter regarding the dwarves of Erebor and Netherfield, checked and approved by Belladonna herself. There was also the monthly taxes and registration for the vineyards Bungo owned outside of Hobbiton as well as the rough draft of the new civil law code for the outer towns of the Shire.

Being the grandson-in-law to the Thain had its uses. There was favoritism, towards everyone in Bag End except Bungo; there were special gifts from other regions and foreign cities given to everyone in Bag End, except Bungo, and more, all omitting Bungo. Bilbo had a small amount of sympathy towards his father but not too much. He was sure that if he were full-bloodied Took and his daughter married a full-bloodied Baggins, there would be some professional avoidance and dislike swimming around. Then again, Bilbo was his grandfather's third favorite grandchild, after Rose Baggins and Roridoc Took, so he did not have the same issues as his father in relations with the Thain.

"Go on and knock, Bilbo, my boy." Bungo said desperately. "That old coot, do not tell him I said that, will just slam the door in my face."

With a put upon huff and a squaring of his shoulders, Bilbo knocked once, twice; thrice in tandem. It only took a few seconds of so for the booming voice of the eighty-eighty year old Thain came from behind the large birch wood doors.

"Come in and this better be good!" The Thain yelled and Bilbo could just see his grandfather having a fit at being interrupted behind his desk as the two hesitantly opened the door.

"Bilbo!" Cried the Thain, Gerontius Took, as he laid eyes upon his much appreciated kin. Gerontius seemed to apologize to a group of people sitting in his office, before he walked down the hallway to greet his family. "Bilbo, my grandson." Gerontius glanced at Bungo. "Bungo," He greeted civilly. "Gotten my daughter pregnant once more?" He snipped, and Bungo's cheeks flushed red.

Embarrassed because while he could not see the unknown visitors, a wall was not see-through, he did hear the whispers and it made him grind his teeth together.

"Grandpapa, let us not, _hmm_? Please go and finish your undoubtedly important meeting before forgoing it to battle wits and patience with my father." Bilbo all but crooned.

Gerontius looked at him skeptically. "Getting better ever year at diplomacy and manipulation, dearest grandson." The Thain patted Bilbo lovingly on the shoulder and shot a mean glare at Bungo. "Baggins." He mumbled distastefully. "Always the Baggins'."

Meanwhile, Bilbo had been reduced to sputtering about how he was most certainly not manipulating anybody and that how it was highly improper and a handful of other grievances that needed to make themselves known.

"Bilbo, you need not tell me any of this. My list of grievances are so long I could hang them from two doors and there still wouldn't be enough space." Bungo said gruffly, his tax papers sitting undesirably in a large leaflet besides him.

Bilbo slapped a hand over his mouth to stop his bubbling laughter when a large, broad and all together fierce figure stepped out from the Thain's office. With two weapons that Bilbo recognized as battle axes strapped to his back and a thick beard that did nothing to hide his tattooed bald head, Bilbo nearly fled at the sight of the Ereborean dwarf. His father most certainly looked like he was a few seconds away from tinkling in his trousers but Bilbo paid no mind, his Took side was too intrigued and his Baggins side was too prejudiced.

The dwarf, who was most certainly male, stared at them with beady eyes and Bilbo could have sworn his father squeaked in fear. When the armored dwarrow made no move from his spot parallel to them and when Bilbo and Bungo both kept on staring, wide-eyed and taken aback, an uncomfortable atmosphere took over the hallway.

It only took about fifteen minutes of heavy social awkwardness and staring for the dwarf to growl out a, "_Can I bloody help you_?"

Bungo shot up, excused himself, and quickly sped down the hallway to some place Bilbo could not label. The dwarrow merely watched the gentlehobbit go with a mocking gleam in his eyes that made Bilbo want to get up, risk his life, and smack the dwarf on the arm.

"Hey now," Bilbo said in what he hoped was not a trembling voice. "You did not have to go and scare him like that." He scolded lightly, unknowingly using the same tone that he used when trying (and failing) at remonstrating with Rose and Ivy. "Now my Da's not going to be able to even look at you."

The dwarrow mutely stared at him as a consequence of Bilbo trying to speak his mind. It wasn't that the gentlehobbit was scared, he was just unfamiliar with dwarves hence the default attitude of being instantly on guard and cautious. Granted, the two very sharp weapons harmlessly strapped to the dwarrow's back made a bead of sweat or two, or twenty, break out on the back of Bilbo's neck.

"Well, I never." Said the dwarf after some time, in a gravelly, thickly accented voice worn down from yelling orders. He was a warrior, Bilbo had no doubts about it. "You're a wee thing, but you got spine."

Bilbo bristled, pleased that the dwarf actually spoke and stopped with the invading stares, but offended at the notion of him being a '_wee thing.'_ And weak!

"Excuse me!" He said indignantly. "Last time I looked you dwarves weren't the tallest folk in the land either!" He defended before paling and internally cursing his slight inheritance of his mother's frank and bold nature.

"I am truly very sorry for being so rud-" He started, only to be cut off.

The dwarf released a merry bellow of a laugh, his face coloring red and his beard bouncing jovially upon his barreled chest. "Laddie, what is your name?" He questioned, his mouth curled into what Bilbo assumed to be a smile but looked more like a snarl.

Refusing to appear threatened as the dwarf inched closer, Bilbo inhaled greatly before answering. "Bilbo Baggins, at your service, Master Dwarf."

"The name's Dwalin, Master Baggins, Dwalin son of Fundin, at yer service." The dwarf-Dwalin-answered in turn, his smile fading quickly and his back straightening.

"Tis a pleasure." Bilbo murmured, his hands no longer shaking but his heart still pounding.

It wasn't long until the deafening silence came back, but the second time around was not filled with fear and an unsure attitude. It was more kindred and accepting, something that soothed Bilbo immensely. The hobbit and the dwarf did not speak to each other again, but a few times Bilbo did met the dwarrow's eye and awkwardly looked away; Dwalin scoffed or rolled his eyes in return.

Whatever meeting-well, Bilbo thought, it is obviously with the Ereborean dwarves-Grandfather Gerontius had ended after another half hour passed, slowly and tediously. Bilbo resisted the urge to stand at attention himself when Dwalin suddenly bolted upright from his leaning position (from the soft snores Dwalin had been emitting the dwarf had been so obviously sleeping) and stood up crisply.

In the end, Bilbo stayed sitting. Not wanting to reveal to Dwalin his nosy nature and secret interest in the dwarves staying in Netherfield, Bilbo played the part of ignorance and confusion well.

Seconds later, five dwarves emerged from the Thain's office, expression blank and mouths straight. One was female and Bilbo thought back to all of the myths about dwarven women and how they looked exactly like the men. Whomever told that fallacy was blind, Bilbo judged harshly as the dwarrowdam marched past. The next three were all males, one with a voluminous white beard, one with short black hair and a poor example of a beard, and the last one dressed in silver armor, donning a single battle axe and a brown beard. None of them save for the elder dwarrow spared Bilbo a glance, for that the gentlehobbit was grateful, while they walked confidently out of the Thain's Halls.

Moving to get up and find his father so that they could speak with the Thain, Bilbo noticed Dwalin eyeing the hobbit dubiously. Bilbo interpreted the dwarf's hard stare as a pressing for a goodbye and bowed politely.

"Nice meeting you, Master Dwalin." Bilbo said before laying eyes upon the last dwarf of the group.

To be honest, Bilbo was simultaneously highly threatened and awed. It went without saying that he had never seen such a kingly, and very handsome if his conscious had anything to say, being. With an authoritative and cold demeanor that made Bilbo feel obliged to bow, the dwarven king coolly looked between Dwalin and Bilbo before his gaze landed on the hobbit.

Not used to such intense attention, Bilbo tried his hardest not to fidget. "Um, nice meeting-well more like seeing-you as well, Master Dwarf."

Bilbo knew that this was the famous Thorin II Dragonslayer, current King Under the Mountain and of Durin's Folk. He was not dumb, uneducated, or ignorant. Be that as it may, with the demeaning look over the king was giving him, Bilbo felt like all three. It was most certainly not appreciated or respectful. Anger bubbled up and twisted his stomach as the dwarf just turned around and resumed walking.

Bilbo made a furious noise before bustling down the hallway, papers and dignity in hand. "Unbelievable!" He fumed, loud enough so that the King Under the Mountain could hear him. "No manners these days in the young folk!"

Behind him, Bilbo hear a choked noise from Dwalin and all but felt the penetrating glare from a seething powerhouse of a dwarf. Spotting his father fixing Gerontius's poorly maintained garden, if Bilbo had anything to say about it-especially the tomatoes! It was a travesty, Bilbo felt a surge of power and pure adrenaline kick through him. Daring to look back at the king with the wounded pride, Bilbo startled when he found the king looking right back at him and Dwalin leaning against a beam with his shoulders shaking.

Bilbo kept the king's sight occupied with his own glare, a mixture of the Chieftess of the Baggins Clan and Belladonna herself, until his father had been collected and the two hobbits, one putting his life on the line defiantly glaring at a king, and the other too intimidated by said king to notice his son's bout of courage and bravery, entered the Thain's office.

"Dwarves," Bilbo muttered distastefully under his breath. So the rumors had been true it seemed. An uncivil and rude lot they were. What about Dwalin?, Bilbo's rational side pressed, Maybe the king just had a bad day?

Sighing in defeat, Bilbo nodded to himself, agreeing to the sensible and logical reasons that his mind supplied him. Ready to believe that his emotionally biased speculation and opinion on dwarves deserved a second chance promptly ended when Bilbo could have sworn on his prized tomatoes that he heard an unfamiliar deep, smooth voice bite out _"Hobbits,"_ scathingly.

Eyes widening and fists clenching, Bilbo had a mind to storm out and put the king back into his place, but the Baggins side all but decimated the inner Took and Bilbo, still frazzled, ushered his father into a chair, slipped the letter that Bungo had written regarding the dwarves into his back pocket, and greeted his grandfather once more.

It was most definitely _not_ a regular day in the Shire.

**A/N: This idea has been occupying space in my mind for months now and I really wanted to bring it to life. I was actually disappointed to see that no one had written something like this, because Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy are very, very similar to our favorite hobbit and dwarf. Anyways, comments and feedback are much appreciated and needed. This is loosely based off of Pride and Prejudice so it will not be a re write of the book lol.**

**Plus, I done fucked with the locations so the Shire is like two hours away from Dale and four from Erebor. Boom.**

**Okay. **


	2. Dancing Fools

"Did you hear, momma? Did you? Did you hear about the dwarves?" Ivy squeaked obnoxiously as she bounced fitfully atop the couch.

Belladonna chuckled, used to her young daughter's eccentricities and enthusiasm. "Oh yes, darling. I've heard all about the weapon wielding, mead hoarding, and food destroying dwarves. Because your father," She shot an unhappy look across the living room at Bungo which told of his not yet forgiven state. "Is inept at times and lost the letter, I went round the block and tuned in to Ruby Proudfoot's gossip group and it seems there is to be a ball at the end of the week!"

There was a collective gasp from two hobbit girls, one groan from Bungo, silence from Tauriel, and a scoff from Bilbo. Lavender had been cooped up in her room since breakfast, her eating habits not of the norm as she only took four meals, leaving her with a slimmer frame and more delicate composition. Suddenly, Rose and Ivy shot up, two troublemakers treating the news as a god send. "Oh my goodness!" They squealed delightfully. "I'll get to see Berle and Calibrus then!" Rose purred while Ivy cried a, "I get see a prince and Darry Baggins! All in the same day!"

"Yes, yes," Bungo grunted gruffly as he dipped his biscuit into his tea more aggressively than the norm. "You and your never-ending dalliances with Berle and Calibrus," He shot Rose an assertive look. "I shall be having a word with both of their parents if this keeps up." He warned with a paternal bearing before turning to Belladonna. "And I shall have you know that the Thain went to Netherfield himself to confirm such a ball and the expenses, so I had insiders information and I was going to tell you until you made off to the parlor, thank you very much."

Belladonna tsked. "Oh hush you."

Rose pouted and went to sulk behind the unsympathetic Tauriel while Bilbo set to translating more books, specifically ballads and poems written in elvish that Belladonna had brought back with her from her latest adventuring to the west. It was a hobby of his that he hoped would never die out even when he eventually inherited Bag End and the miles of vineyards and property that his father owned and kept running.

Books, in Bilbo's mind, were more important than silly old balls held by visiting dwarven royalty and Tauriel seemed to agree with him, even Lavender looked indifferent and all shades of uncaring from her hunched stance in the darkest corner of the room. Alas, the rest of the occupants in the house, excluding Bungo, had amassed enough energy and vivaciousness to completely knock the three naysayers out of the court and sooner or later, Bilbo knew. He knew that a dreaded shopping trip was in order and by the pinched look on Tauriel's face, she knew too.

Deep breaths and patience, Bilbo reminded himself. Especially patience.

llll

As the family paraded into the common star formation Belladonna had taken to herding her children—and husband—into when going out, for Rose and Ivy had a knack for disappearing and there had already been numerous occasions where they had been supposedly lost for a good amount of hours, Bilbo noticed his dear elder sister's reluctance.

Taking note of Tauriel's slumped form and strained expression, Bilbo deduced that the impending ball was not up to his sister's tastes but exceeding her standards, if the elegant invitation was anything to go by, by a Shire mile. Oh well, Bilbo thought while stepping over the protruding root right outside the Gamgee's gate as the family walked past, there is no stopping the trip now. She shall eventually get over it.

And so the seven members of the highly esteemed Baggins family headed off to Netherfield Manor for the highlight of the Shire year: a royal ball put on by the Durins themselves. Rose and Ivy were by far the most excited for such frivolity, as Lavender had put it, highly offended at the notion of socializing. Belladonna, of course, was in the front of the formation. With her head held high and hips swinging merrily, there was none other Shire lass like her. Bungo was on her right, Rose was in the middle, and Ivy was on her left. Lavender and Bilbo had all but been thrown in the back, both pessimistic and the tallest hobbits of the bunch. Tauriel's periwinkle blue dress was softly swishing besides Bilbo. She stayed out of the formation, for her unmatchable height would have caused a disruption in the smallest to tallest set up.

Bilbo did not like having his sister being the odd one out, even though she was seen as an equal in everybody's eyes, for no matter how hobbitish Tauriel dressed, her elvish heritage shone true. "Tauriel," Bilbo called, snatching his sister's attention quickly. "It might be wise to lighten up, my dear sister, and not looking like you are heading to your execution."

Tauriel looked visibly uncomfortable, something that filled Bilbo's stomach with dread for any semblance of true emotion made known in public on Tauriel's usually stoic face was rare and only when she felt overwhelmed. "Bilbo, I am trying," She admitted with a hint of desperation. "It is just that it has been many years since I have laid eyes upon Aüle's children, the noble ancestors of Durin nonetheless!" She sidestepped closer, the folds of her dress swaying in the opposite direction like crisp blue flowers in a fine breeze. "I am not sure that I will be welcome. Dwarves and Elves are not compatible, you know."

With an undignified snort and a toss of his curls, Bilbo looked to his sister incredulously. "Lobelia and I are not compatible. The Proudfoots and the Lockfeets have not had a civil conversation in hundreds of years! Because of an accident and a trampled pumpkin!" He rested a supposed soothing hand upon Tauriel's upper leg. "Nothing will happen for you have the entirety of the Shire backing you, royalty be damned. Goodness, Tauriel, you have me as well!"

"Don't fret, darling." Belladonna crooned loudly from the tip of the star, her smile wide and motherly. "Bilbo is right, per usual, and you should try and enjoy yourself."

"I can very well protect myself." Tauriel stated gruffly, earning a '_goodness me!_' from Bungo and a '_sour puss!_' from Ivy. "That is not why I am…worried."

"Then do tell, sister, why you are surrounded by an aura of trepidation that is very unattractive and borderline fretful." Bilbo said amusedly, a smile playing on his features.

Tauriel scowled and huffed to compose herself. "I just wish for this night to go by without any unwanted altercations-"

"Altercations?!" questioned Bungo with a gape. "My dear girl, what ever are you going on about back there?" With his a hand over his heart and a scandalized expression marring his face, Bungo shook his head. "A Baggins does not involve themselves in any _altercations_."

Bilbo and Tauriel both resisted the urge to roll their eyes at the dramatics even though the Baggins philosophy of life was nothing new. Up ahead, Belladonna groaned. "Mr. Baggins," She grunted. "The child merely meant to say that she wishes peace and prosperity upon this ball, and that she hopes that the dwarves do not take any unnecessary precautions or actions at her appearance."

"Thank you, mother who is younger than me." Tauriel said graciously from the back, besides a chuckling Biibo.

"Younger I may be, but I am also wiser." Belladonna winked in good humor before trotting along to the left, turning onto the main travel road for another fifteen minutes towards Netherfield.

A pleasant silence fell over the family after not but a short minute. There were many hobbits already on the road, chattering about the happenings of the day and the future as if it were the most important thing in the world. Bilbo recognized his eccentric cousin Harriet and his other brash cousin Primula Brandybuck. Both of the lasses were dressed quite nicely, in humble corsets and plump, full dresses that were filled with colors of sunshine and warm summer grass. Bilbo himself had donned his rich mahogany vest with silver swirls embroidered on the front and tan trousers that fit him just right. Rose and Ivy corresponded together with their outfits and were wearing light peach vests and dandelion white dresses that reached to the middle of their calves. Lavender had stubbornly chosen a black dress that buttoned up to right under her chin, Belladonna had simply brushed her unusually long hair and thrown on a rich rose red dress that moved magnificently with her, as if it was an extension. Bungo himself had dressed up as well, sporting a leaf green vest and a darkened wood set of trousers.

Bilbo did not care for appearances like his father and two youngest sisters. He had always enjoyed watching the differentiating fabrics collide and caresses each other, every one another color than the last, and seeing the bright, joyous flashes of a colorful wonder for a fleeting second. Balls were the perfect opportunity for such an indulgence, but at this certain ball, Bilbo had no desire to be present as the host was not someone he cared for.

His grandfather Gerontious had made it clear enough that the dwarves were not to be messed with, for they were royalty and only royalty can challenge itself. But Bilbo knew that there was more behind his Thain's strict assertion for the upmost respectable behavior and Bilbo had no doubt it was because of the economical ties between the dwarven kingdom and the hobbit's region. Surely the ball could not be ruined by a certain cantankerous king whom Bilbo had the pleasure of meeting for only two or so minutes and instantly not liking? If so, Tauriel and him had the stealth and motives so as to sneak out undetected if they really felt like it.

Bilbo was shaken from his inner contemplation when a gleeful shriek rang through his ears uninvited. Ivy and Rose stood close together, shoulders touching and hair intertwining, and all but leered at the grand estate up ahead. Beige stone was the outward foundation and a glamorous amount of marble adorned the numerous and colossal stairways that eventually led to the dwarfing oak doors that towered the entrance like a disapproving guardian. Netherfield Park was an estate of huge proportions. The gardens, from what Bilbo could see at a glance, were filled to the brim with exotic and native plants that blossomed healthily and robustly. The gravel road leading to the entrance of the manner was fairly smooth, as if it had been shoveled and raked by hand. In all honesty, Bilbo should not have been expecting less. It wasn't as if it was just a regular family who happened to have hills of gold residing in the manor, it was a king and his family.

The ball later on in the night was supposed to be a welcoming ball, hosted by the new intendants themselves and with a promised buffet of many foods and delicacies, but events like this were partly for entertainment and partly for displaying wealth and power. To say it irked Bilbo was an understatement but he would be a hypocrite if he were to say that his family had never done the same. That was the way social politics worked and there was nothing that Bilbo could do to stop it.

"Onwards to the manor, family." Rose commanded, pointing a slim hand towards the grand house ahead of her. "I cannot wait to see the dwarven men!" At Bungo's near shocked expression, Rose quickly backtracked and smiled sheepishly. "A-and food, father. And food."

"What's the difference to you, Rose?" Lavender remarked with a scathing glare. "Improper little-"

"Why you blasted-"

"Ladies!" Tauriel snapped in a no nonsense tone and crossed arms that spoke of her seriousness. "You will conduct yourself in an orderly and ladylike manner while we are here or else I will have you wearing sacks and training with me everyday until the next winter."

Rose and Lavender blanched, faces going pale white and cheeks puckering up as if they had consumed something unbearably sour. Belladonna herself shot a withering look at the two young fauntlings and a mildly bemused one at Tauriel. "Daughter, you are stealing my job as a mother." She stated.

Tauriel had the decency to look abashed. "Oh dear…" She trailed off and started up the stairs with a prolonged sigh. "And so it begins."

Bilbo looked at his sister through narrowed eyes. "Oh now you are just being dramatic. How am I the only one who sees this?" He asked, mostly to himself but with a futile hope to the rest of his family who seemed to be preoccupied with other things.

"Oh, Bilbo!" Screeched an entirely unwelcome voice from the gentlehobbits left. Lobelia. "So great of to prance in and ruin yet another outing." She shrilled waspishly.

"Oh shove it, dear cousin." Bilbo muttered under his breath as he bowed to the courier outside. "I am not in the mood for your abysmal attitude atop of your harpyiness."

Lobelia scowled fiercely and rolled her eyes tottered up to Bilbo's side with a small puff. "Now listen here, Bilbo Baggins. I have had enough of your sassiness to last me a lifetime." She violently patted down the front of her dress. "And the real reason I have begrudgingly come over to talk to you is because your cousin, Otho-"

Bilbo groaned quietly and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that the mouth on the hobbit lass next to him would cease opening. "Please, I do not want to her about my cousin Otho. Not now, not in a long time, Lobelia."

The two hobbits stepped into the foyer and marveled at the dwarven reconstruction, the carved marble and the unearthly glow that many of the rebuilt walls gave off. The green stone shone so that the white marble floor below the hobbits' feet, in turn, looked like clear water, shimmering. Already, the manor was packed and the smell of roasted pork, sautéed mushrooms, juicy sausages whose aroma was intoxicating, and the undeniable smell of fried potatoes filled Bilbo's nostrils with heavenly delight.

All around him were his neighbors, family, friends, and no small amount of acquaintances. Bilbo and Lobelia separated ways with two twin sighs of relief and Bilbo covertly grabbed Tauriel from the attention of a smitten Took who had no appeal to the elvish maiden whatsoever, The problem was that Tauriel had no qualms about letting her opinion known when it came to attempts of wooing and it, led to a number of broken hearts that Rose and Ivy were all too happy to pick up.

"Let us find the rest of the family, brother dearest." Tauriel said whilst scanning the mansion. Bilbo saw what looked like admiration for the structural beauty and design of the estate built by men turned into a palatial dwarven manor.

"Yes, I agree." Bilbo complied and grasped his sister's elbow as he led them, slithering, through the packs of dancing and feasting hobbits. "You do know that mother is going to make us socialize and converse with the host and his family." Bilbo added on blandly.

Tauriel sighed silently. "Please do not remind me. I am most definitely not looking forward to meeting the famous dwarf king of Erebor and his minions."

"Tauriel!" Bilbo scolded quietly with a cheek splitting smile. "If our father could hear you now!"

"It is good then," Tauriel muttered with a dash of indignation and spunk, "That our father is not here to witness my mischievous behavior, for is he was, he would surely have a fit." She stopped walking and stood for half a moment in what looked liked delightful contemplation; a crinkle to her eyes and an upturn set to her lips. "Unlike you, Bilbo." She said with a hint of elation in her tone, as if she were glad that her brother was a sensible gentlehobbit with a proper head on his shoulders. "You absolutely abhor attracting attention and making a fuss."

Bilbo hummed in his own pleased reply as the musicians hired by the royal family began a jolly and jocund song that was only played for ebullient occasions such as parties or balls.

For a while, Bilbo and Tauriel stood in the corner with no actual purpose to their loitering, like Christmas trees still lurking when springtime came round. Bilbo knew that Tauriel, his dear introverted sister who was far to quiet for her own good (except when threatened or offended or speaking her position on important matters such as the seasonal gossip of the Shire and which pie of Gertrude Gallygait's was the finest), had no qualms about wasting the night away watching hundreds of hobbits prancing and putter around; however, Bilbo felt restless and the twitch in his foot all but persuaded him to be swept away into the crowd.

Only to find his mother.

Belladonna was a hurricane at home and a tornado on the dance floor, as funny as the comparison may be. It was true, nobody was left out when Belladonna decided that the song playing met her standards and as she began to caper around with pep. Feeling a little nonplussed and embarrassed, because he was part Baggins and sometimes his mother— bless her heart — was entirely too Took for him, Bilbo called his mother over with an expectant and frisk motioning of his left hand.

To his surprise and horror, his mother lit up like a beacon and grasped Bilbo by the upper arm with enthusiasm, her grip strong and giving off no indication of her elderly age. "Bilbo, darling! Just the hobbit I was looking for!" She exclaimed sunnily. "Go fetch your sister and put on your manners hat, not that _you_ need such a reminder." She scoffed, looking pointedly at Bilbo's wayward sisters who were whirlwinds while dancing.

The apple did not fall far from the tree, it seems.

"May I ask wh—" Bilbo began only to sputter as his mother roughly, but with copious amounts of love, pushed him towards his sister's towering frame.

"Do as I say, lad, and none of that Baggins snappishness." She huffed before being swept up by a resident tailor.

Getting Tauriel to come along was no easy feat. The elvish lass refused to take part in anything, her patience spent and her star-lust creeping in tenfold.

"I promise, sister. " Bilbo pleaded, his eyes wide with hope that his sister would cave. "The stars will be out when we leave and you can gaze then."

Tauriel's mouth pursed and bent to the closest thing to a pout that Bilbo had ever seen on her face. "Do not tell me what I already know, Bibi," She grumbled, her hands skirting over a small pastry with purple lilacs frosted upon the top. "I am simply out of patience and my feet are itching for grass and bark, forgive me."

Now what could he say to that? Bilbo smiled lightheartedly before holding out a small, thin hand and encasing it in his sister's own. "There is no reason to apologize, Tauriel." He tugged on her hand and the two hastily made their way over to their bustling mother for a task unknown.

XXX

"Ah, beloved!" Called out Bungo with relief and gayness unmatched. "May I introduce my wife, Belladonna Baggins," Bilbo's father stated, prideful and lovingly. "And this," He settled a fatherly hand upon Bilbo's shoulder. "Is my only and eldest son, Bilbo, and my daughter, Tauriel."

Belladonna mustered up the most formal curtsey Bilbo had ever seen his mother conjure and perform and Tauriel ignored the sour and bewildered looks from the three dwarves and bowed formally in its stead. It was obvious now that the group in front of the Baggins family, minus the three _sweethearts_ of the family, were most definitely not of the race of hobbits or even close. No, these were the noblest and most elite of the dwarven race, the Ereboreans and their fabled king.

It was not all that overwhelming; exciting, yes, but not anything that set Bilbo's nerves alight — well, in a bad way at least. Kings and queens and knights did not exist in the Shire. Wars over jewels and gems, bloodshed in-between kin, and heinous crimes and murders were all subjects that traveled to the Shire by mouth and tongue and were all treated with equal amounts of suspicion, disgust, disbelief, and awe.

(But everyone heard the dragon attacking the opulent kingdom under the mountain and it's dynamic sister city, even the hobbits in the Shire, and while the screams were mute, the grounds shook hellishly and the roars thundered across the lands until the fateful dwarven black arrow pierced the heart of evil and onto it unleashed justice in its purest form.)

However, when the proof of such horrors and foreignness was placed directly in front of a hobbit's eyes, when the bloody dragonslayer himself was standing with all of the arrogance and unpleasantness in all of Arda, there was not much that could be said at that point.

"So this is the hobbit." Noted the king in an overly frigid and all together condescending manner as he looked down upon Bilbo. His voice was as deep as the rolling thunder in the clouds on a turbulent day but sleek as sheets of golden wheat on a summer's day. "And the elf." Bilbo saw the cold ice eyes narrow frostily and a surge of protectiveness and fear caused him to inch closer to his sister for the way _elf_ was muttered was the farthest thing from friendly Bilbo had ever heard.

"Y-yes." Bungo stammered, the dwarf king's chilled pomposity clearly causing his father to cower. "They are my family." Came the last statement, said with a steady voice that even seemed to startle Bilbo.

"Every single one of them." Tacked on Belladonna bluntly with a blatant side look to Tauriel and a poorly concealed glare at the dwarf king. "We also have three more," She added with a fond smile. "All female and little ruffians with too much time on their hands if you ask me."

Bilbo could practically see the next subject that his mother would touch: marriage, and quickly jumped in to the conversation with care and with as much confidence as he could muster.

"Tis a pleasure to meet you." Bilbo greeted the king amiably, ignoring the disinterested and quite rude scowl that seemed to be plastered upon the king's face. "I only hope your journey here was smooth and without trouble."

The king looked sharply at Bilbo and the instinctual want to step out of his line of sight was forcibly pushed down by sheer will and no small amount of pride on Bilbo's behalf. "You are…Master Bilbo of the Baggins Clan, are you not?" The king said but it might as well have been a demand for the authoritative tone and regal haughtiness came only from being of blue blood.

Bilbo faltered, his tongue tying and fists spastically wanting to clench because his opinion of this fine king had only seemed to dwindle in a downward spiral at a exceedingly fast rate. "Yes," Bilbo answered before his cheek and Tookish side got the best of him. "That is what my father said, isn't it?"

The dwarrow that Bilbo recognized as Dwalin was sipping a large tankard of ale, from the Green Dragon because —as rumor has it— the dwarves made through their two barrels in only two hours, and came awfully close to spitting it all over the floor and his fur pelts and rather unnecessary armor. Dwalin's poorly concealed guffawing shone light on the next person in the group. It was only when she stepped out from behind the King Thorin and his bodyguard did Bilbo finally see the mysterious dwarrowdam from the Thain's Offices in full light.

"Master Baggins," She bowed well mannerly and diplomatically. Her voice was a like the soothing sound of a spring breeze, deep as the color red on Bilbo's tomatoes, and soft like the beds of fresh grass, ripe for prancing. Very beautiful was this dwarrowdam. "Your wishes and hopes are taken into account and much appreciated. Our journey was a relatively pleasant one and since we shall only take up residence in Netherfield for a few days at a time for the next handful of months, our load was light and none to cumbersome."

Bilbo observed how she covered up any unsavory or personal/revealing details and only left the bare bones about the not too long but not too short trip from Erebor to the Shire and something akin to respect blossomed for the intelligent and poised woman in front of him. "That is good news, Mistress…" He trailed off, unsure and awaiting the admittance of her name.

"Dís, daughter of Frís, daughter of Aís, Princess of Erebor." Dís replied with pride and a proud bearing,

Undergoing a minor bolt of panic and disbelief at himself for not quite believing the noble lady in front of him — because honestly, why else would she be apart of the unmarried king's entourage and share extremely similar physical aspects and phenotypes with said king? —, Bilbo only paused in his tracks for a second before giving a customary bow and murmuring a soft 'my lady' to Dís in respect. To his surprise, Tauriel did the same, her hair falling in sheets of autumn leaves down to her waist, despite Lavender's attempts at keeping it up in a bun.

"It is an honor to meet you, Lady Dís." Tauriel spoke diplomatically, her voice void of any other emotion than faint nervousness.

It did not go missed by the taken aback dwarrowdam. "An elf," She stated, her thick dark eyebrows raised ever so slightly and an unbidden curl of her lips that one could catch only if they peered hard enough were the only show of the princess's inner turmoil. "An elf in the shire." She examined Tauriel from head to toe. "I have heard the rumors, but cast them aside as merely gossip. It seems I was wrong."

"It is rare, unheard of, that a child of the light and stars would come to live amongst the children of the harvest." The king had stepped up, an unvarnished look of distrust plastered across his handsome face.

Tauriel stood ramrod straight and Bilbo saw the internal gears cranking in her mind, working and grinding. "It is rare, unheard of, that a prestigious dwarf king take up residence in Yavanna's Haven but here we are, my lord." She said canorously, her tone candid and polite.

King Thorin 's jaw visibly clenched and Bilbo saw a twitch of a smile – quickly covered with faux annoyance — in Lady Dís. Tauriel may have been one of the quieter lasses in the Shire, but when she was offended she would offend right back and with a vengeance, so Bilbo did the next plausible thing and let loose a little chuckle to direct the attention onto himself, which he met with resigned sense of un-comfortableness.

"Well, your majesties, it was a sincere pleasure to met you," Bilbo started of with a wan smile he hoped did not seem too anxious or standoffish. "Please tell Master Dwalin that I said 'hello' for I am sure he does not remember and a kindling of memory will not hurt." He ended with a cheeky smile that was small in its grace but Lady Dís gave a quite charming laugh anyways.

Bilbo was taken aback by the boisterous and hearty laugh that the princess had but he had no doubts in his mind that it made the princess any less beautiful in a foreign manner or proper. From the corner, the dwarf, Dwalin, looked up from staring suspiciously in his mug of drink and lifted an eyebrow at Bilbo. "I heard your greetin', lad," Dwalin informed, amused, before his eyes narrowed at the gentlehobbit whose nerves were surely suffering greatly from all of the dwarven attention he had cast upon himself. "And my memory's quick as a rabbit and sharp as a certain king's nose." He said snappishly.

Catching himself in time before his bubbling laughter slipped of the edge of his tongue, Bilbo reigned himself in (his mother however, laughed loud and long), even as the King Under the Mountain's cold face went from hidden distaste to outright rage. Thorin's eyes became stormier than ever and there was an even grimmer set to his lips, making him seem like a distant mountain, unapproachable and dangerous. However, Dwalin looked alarmingly unperturbed by Thorin's deathly glares and Bilbo felt blessed that he wasn't at the end of such an unpleasant and frightful glare.

"We must take our leave now, King Thorin, Lady Dís, and Master Dwalin." Tauriel spoke up, her feet twitching ever so slightly in annoyance and ignoring her parent's questioning gazes.

"Yes, I must seek out my sisters for they must be around here somewhere." He cast an amiable smile, a bit on the forced side but also genuine. "May you be welcome to Bag End any time you see fit and please enjoy your stay, no matter how long." He concluded with an air of finality and bowed slightly.

Tauriel quickly grabbed his sleeve and the two hastily turned around when King Thorin and his sister had come back up from their own customary bow. The hobbit brother and his elvish sister practically flew towards the outer hall where few persons were to be found and where only a faint waft of music could be heard; Calm and peaceful, away from the heart of the ball and deserting their parents to a king and his sister. When the two had finally escaped the crowded halls and into their own self appointed sanctuary, Bilbo and Tauriel settled under a opening in the wall, a window not leading to the outdoors but to another room, the outer room where only soft chattering and the occasional clinking of glasses could be heard.

"That," Bilbo panted, worn out from Tauriel's quick pace. "Was excruciatingly awkward." Tauriel shot him a wry look. "I think I prefer speaking with grandmother than with dwarven kings and their immediate family."

"You seemed pretty familiar with that brutish looking guard of his." Tauriel pointed out with a note of curiousness.

Bilbo gave her a disappointed look. "Now see here, sister," He began defensively. "Master Dwalin was a perfect gentleman —gentle_dwarf_ — and he even gave me the option to call him by his name and name only, no title. Perfectly amicable if you ask me."

Looking highly amused, Tauriel nudged Bilbo's shoulder. "What about King Thorin?" She pressured before a bright smirk weaved its way onto her fine features. "I myself was becoming cantankerous, which only proves that his grumpiness is contagious." She leaned in close. And could not hold back a quiet giggle as she whispered into Bilbo's ear a _"Beware, Bilbo!"_

Fighting his own happiness, Bilbo chose to compose himself in good nature even as he leaned in closer to his sister to conspire and gossip, as young and connected siblings do when left unsupervised for long periods of time. "Tauriel, you should be ashamed!" He said mirthfully. "And, my goodness! I can't help but agree with y-"

"Thorin, can you not at least try to socialize and not be such a stuffy old dwarf!" Lady Dís' voice rang out from the next room over and Bilbo and Tauriel immediately silenced their merriment in order to listen in. "I mean honestly!" The noble dwarrowdam sounded exasperated and at the end of her wits.

Probably not the first nor last time either, Bilbo thought drolly.

"I have to agree with mother on this one, Uncle." Came another voice, younger, energetic, and unfamiliar. The prince, if the given title of the king as an uncle was anything to go by. "You are being positively unlikable." The 'as usual' was smartly left out.

"Kíli, I advise you to tread carefully and go back to dancing with all of those eager hobbit lasses." King Thorin replied with a sharp edge to his tone that made Bilbo cringe. The prince must be one of the most well mannered lads in all of Middle Earth if he was raised with King Thorin nearby.

"Maybe you can go and hunt down that elvish lass." Lady Dís piped up and Bilbo and Tauriel shared a quizzical look between them. "I saw the way you looked at her, _inùdoy_."

To his right, Bilbo whipped his head to exchange a shocked look with an equally shocked and red-faced Tauriel. Suppressing a riotous laughter that refused to quell, Bilbo stifled his glee by placing both hands over his mouth. Tauriel face was a mixture of taken back, flattered, horrified, and something else Bilbo could not quite place but could see that it had room to grow.

"For Mahal's sake, Dís!" King Thorin's voice reverberated off of the stone walls and Bilbo could not help but feel as if it belonged with the stone, as if him and the stone were one of the same. "I am not in the mood for dancing with these child-like folk nor am I quite fond of their infuriating attitudes." And Bilbo felt a rise of indignation at that point.

"You have no room to talk, you great giant brooder, sulker, proud, ill tempered—"

"Enough!" Thorin cut her off with a growl that made Bilbo's blood run cold, and judging from Tauriel's stiff stance, he was not the only one who felt such a way. "You let your words run free without thinking first, sister."

There was an uncaring snort before the room became silent. "What about the Halfling? Master Bungo's son?" Dís spoke up after some time had passed.

It was Bilbo's turn to freeze at the unexpected turn of events. He had not foreseen such a question even being thought in the minds of pure dwarven royalty and was simply unprepared and did not know how to react. Glancing at his sister he was unsurprised and miffed to find that she had a smug grin, as if it pleased her to know she wasn't the only one targeted by dwarven blue bloods.

"He was not handsome enough to tempt me, sister." Thorin replied frankly and with a broad stoke of haughtiness that made Bilbo's blood toil. "And I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies or men who are slighted by others."

Bilbo grit his teeth at the insult and felt a soothing hand cover his knee from where he had pulled it up against his chest. Lady Dís spoke a few more times, reprimanding her brother and liege for his sour, dour mood and her son for almost dropping a supposed vase but Bilbo heard none for his fury was strong and his pride deeply wounded.

Even as the family left Netherfield, Rose, Ivy, and Lavender snoring or complaining, Belladonna and Bungo tipsy, and Tauriel silent and looking at the stars, Bilbo still could not shake off the fiery anger that rushed through his blood whenever he thought of the king with utterly atrocious manners and a face too handsome for his own damn good.

Looking at Netherfield once more, Bilbo muttered a mordacious _'bebother and confusticate that dwarf! Well, since he is so adamant about not liking me, I shall not indulge anyone by liking him either, Lady Dís included!' _

And that was that, if Bilbo had anything to say about it.

**A/N:**

_**emotionally constipated otps are the best.**_

_**Reviews are appreciated and I hope you enjoyed!**_


	3. The Infallibility of Strawberries

Tauriel looked past the miniature, well to her at least, gate and outwards to the never-ceasing green hills of the Shire. From her tender days as an Elfling, the hills had brought her something that caves could not: warmth and peace. It was often in occurrence that she sat either in the large Oak tree inhabiting the Baggins' yard or the relatively flat roof of Bag End only to gaze out into the world of the Hobbits. However, her mother, Belladonna, had assigned her an important duty, or so she called it, and that was to fetch a basket of strawberries and blackberries for her famed marmalade and strudels.

She sighed to herself and hopped from the smooth, welcoming branch — which had allowed her graciously to rest upon — and trudged towards her family's smial with light steps. If she had to waste her day shopping for fruit then so would her brother. Siblings always made sure to include their other siblings in their suffering for in family, suffering – whatever the kind — was a shared event. And currently, she was suffering internally from another problem that arose out of the blue so Bilbo should step up and share the pain; that was her rationale.

"Bilbo dearest!' She called loudly, muttering a halfhearted apology when Bungo huffed about inside voices. "Come along, the market is waiting!"

With a grunt, her brother came into view. He had not changed from his dirtied gardening clothes, gloves, and sunhat and was looking more curious as to why he was being called than angered for the interruption. "Tauriel, surely you can head to the day market by yourself." He smiled with a cocked eyebrow.

"Yes, well, I find myself in need of company." She admitted quietly for much was on her mind and a nice stroll through the market with her brother presented the perfect opportunity to release some of her inner worries. "Yours specifically."

Bilbo's eyes widened and his expression turned to full puzzlement but his eyes shone with amusement. "Why not ask Rose or Ivy, Tauriel. They will suffice, will they not?" He inquired quizzically.

Leveling him with a serious glare, Tauriel pursed her lips. "_Bibi_," She very nearly growled. "Do not take this request as a jest."

With a slow nod and a strayed look upon Tauriel's face for any indications of un-wellness, Bilbo nodded. "Alright, let me go change."

"No," Tauriel grabbed his gloved hand with one of her own and the basket for the fruits with the other. "I will not spend two hours waiting for you to doll yourself up." At that Bilbo sputtered in denial. "We make haste to the market, now."

The two beings, Elf and Hobbit, made their way leisurely to the market. Tauriel could her Bilbo's ruffled glare at her hypocritical words but the elvish maiden heeded no mind. Along the way, several of the Baggins' neighbors waved and shot pleasant and friendly smiles towards Tauriel and Bilbo, to which the two made sure to reciprocate. The actual Shire Market was only around fifteen minutes away from Bag End and by the time the two got there, Tauriel had quickly grasped Bilbo's sleeve and led them to a rather secluded aisle donning streamers of silver and black and carved wooden signs of farming tools (for weapons were considered unnatural and distasteful in the Shire). The local forge was under the ownership of some rather quiet and stoic dwarves from Erebor, who were renting out the aisle in question and came into the Shire once every Blue Moon. Bilbo himself had not seen the dwarves and neither had most of the Shire population for they were very elusive in their craft and social life. Tauriel took his distracted state and used it to her advantage, pushing him towards a neatly crafted bench under a strong and sturdy apple tree. Bilbo calmly waited for his sister to explain her queer moods and Tauriel licked her lips nervously.

"What is this all about, dear sister? Are you…" He hesitated before a pink blush spread on his cheeks. "Are you perhaps on your…um…monthly? Because I am afraid I cannot help you there other than to make you a soothing cup of tea." He rambled to cover his red ears and own embarrassment.

A flush was brushed across Tauriel's own cheeks and she quietly,with a squeaky voice she would never admit to having, told Bilbo that no, she was not currently bleeding from her nether regions and did not require his assistance in that nature in any way shape or form. Bilbo replied with an even redder face and an awkward, embarrassed roll of his eyes.

"But there is one thing that has been bothering me lately and I cannot seem to get it out of my mind." Tauriel conceded with a tap of her foot.

"Then let us hear your inner woes. Tauriel." Bilbo replied in a heartbeat. He was never one to ignore his sister's emotional distress. "You can tell me, for I will not judge too harshly." He grinned cheekily.

"Bilbo, you should not judge at all." Tauriel admonished with a lightened brow. "But all pleasantness aside—"

"My goodness! What a damper mood you have there!"

"It is about the dwarf prince," She blurted out, the tip of her ears reddening.

Bilbo stuttered incomprehensively. "W-well, I never, Tauriel! Out of all of the preposterous things to say!"

"It is not preposterous," Tauriel growled, her eyes narrowing and fists clenching as she eyed Bilbo with poorly concealed anger and hurt. "You said you would not judge, brother of mine." She hissed, her cheeks blooming roses out of fury and embarrassment.

Quickly, Bilbo held up a placating hand and stammered out an apology for it was not his intention to anger his sister; it was only the outlandishness of the proclamation that had him confused. "I am sorry," He apologized hastily before averting his eyes shamefully to the cobblestone road. "That came out rude and was completely uncalled for. I was just taken aback, that is all." Tauriel shifted uncomfortably and Bilbo hoped that his small smile would wriggle out information from his elven sibling. "Might you indulge me in your dwarven problems?"

With a click of her tongue, Tauriel fidgeted once, twice, before turning fitfully towards Bilbo, her cheeks no longer red but a soft, feminine, beautiful pink that only ladies could give off.

"I know I feigned aloofness the night of the ball, but I cannot stop thinking about him, hence my strange moods lately." She confessed quietly as if it was a shameful secret. "I fear that I am pining over a _dwarf_, who is a _prince_. I am acting like a foolish fauntling who has no knowledge of the world and only the narrow mindedness of a tween!" She whispered angrily.

Bilbo looked at his distraught sister in the eyes, his expression solemn and sober. "I know naught of love, my dear Tauriel, for I have not experience the call of a soul mate nor the heavy thuds of the heart in love. However, one thing I do know is that there is absolutely nothing wrong with loving someone, no matter the race, nor color, nor appearance." He shook his head humorously. "You act as if pining over someone, feeling the tenderness and passion of love, is a bad thing! Eru help us, what got that notion in your head, Tauriel?"

"He is a dwarf, Bilbo! A _dwarf_! One I have never struck up a conversation but only glimpsed at through a blasted poorly placed hole in the wall." She exclaimed, her voice rising to a volume Bilbo hadn't heard since Belladonna and her had gotten into a light winded fight about some unknown subject a few years back. "It is folly!"

"Now see hear, Tauriel!" Bilbo shot right back, anger and indignation creeping up into his tone. "If this is about the foolish spat between your kind and his-"

"_Foolish?"_

"Yes, foolish!" Bilbo stood up abruptly and spun on his naked heel to glare at Tauriel with a frighteningly familiar gleam to his eyes, just like Belladonna. "You are not like your kin." He reminded sternly, as if Tauriel was not almost five times older than him. "You are an elven lass of the Shire, born and raised for the most part here and definitely more sensible and full-bodied than your kin!"

"_Full-bodied?"_

"Those grudges that your silly kin hold do not pertain to you and whatever grudges that cherub prince holds against you have no power nor leverage for the past is the past and as far as I am concerned, there is too much worrying about past happenings for anything to get done between the Elves and the Dwarves."

Inhaling deeply, Tauriel rapidly muttered something in Sindarin under her breath and Bilbo tapped his foot in annoyance and impatience. He had not yet mastered the common Elvish tongue and whenever Tauriel used it, it made him feel quite aggravated and belittled, even though that was not his sister's intention.

"He doesn't even know who I am." She mumbled, her ears flaring pink and cheeks powdered with a sweet blush. "And I am not sure if I want him to know."

"Pish posh," Bilbo scoffed with two hands upon his hips. "We are just going to have to change that, now aren't we?" He asked as he scooped up Tauriel's hand in his own and began to drag his sister towards the central aisles of the market. She did not move from her seat.

"I would prefer it if we didn't," The elvish lass muttered even though she made no attempt to stop Bilbo from tugging her hand. "Surely, whatever plan you have concocted is not going to work. Remember, dwarves like to hole up and isolate themselves; good luck, trying to find a young prince out in the Shire markets."

Sending a withering look towards Tauriel, Bilbo scoffed. "You just watch, Tauriel. I am going to find that prince whether he wants to be found or not." Thrusting out another hand, Bilbo offered his help in assisting Tauriel with getting up from the bench; she gently slapped the limb away and shuffled to her feet with a shy hesitance. "Do not appear as such, sister. While this development is quite the surprise, imagine what the prince would say if he saw you now, hmm? Are you conveniently forgetting the words he spoke at the ball?"

"_I saw the way you looked at her_, inue douy." Bilbo faltered at the last word, the foreign, guttural language inharmoniously sliding off his tongue unlike those with native talents. "Remember? Because I do, Tauriel, and that means that you have unknowingly caught the eye of a young dwarven prince and vice versa."

"Bilbo, now you are just grasping at strings!" Tauriel declared loudly, her hands grasping at thin air and the light lace on the hem of her dress smoothing the laces of her boots with every step forward. "Honestly, I can only hope that this is a stupid, silly, small crush that will eventually fade away like all young love."

Cocking an eyebrow, Bilbo pointed a sinewy finger at his own chest. "Not all young love disappears in the folds of time, Mistress Elf. Belladonna will harangue you for such blasphemous talk and steal away your dessert when you are not paying any mind."

With perky laughter, Tauriel reached down to grab at Bilbo's hand and take it up into her own - even if their heights were wildly differentiating. "_Ai_, I cannot disagree with you there, Master Hobbit." She said jokingly. "Perhaps," Tauriel looked at the ground with a miniature smile. "Perhaps, I shall see him some time in the future. Whether it be today, tomorrow, or years from now." She pondered hopefully, a twinkle alight in her green eyes.

Eyes crinkling in delight and at the prospect of his sister finding happiness, Bilbo nodded. "That's the spirit, lass!" He praised even as Tauriel yanked her hand out of his and lightly whacked him on the head. "Now, let's go get those berries."

* * *

"Calibrus is dating Mirabella Took!" Wailed Rose as she collapsed against her miffed father. "Berle is a pompous fool who has no manners outside of be-"

"Rosaline Earline Baggins!" Squeaked Bungo with a pasty white face and a gnarled hand over his heart, "For the love of Yavanna do _not_ finish that sentence while you are in my presence and underage!"

"Da!" Rose caterwauled, her fingers tugging in earnest on her father's lapel. "Not my real name, for goodness sakes!"

"Maybe if you behaved yourself and silenced your blasted screeches, Da wouldn't have to reprimand you, you old ninny." Hissed Lavender from her position in the star-formation.

"Watch your tongues," Belladonna interjected with a no-nonsense tone and a formidable glare. "If you two cannot act like the respectable hobbit lasses I have raised you to be, you both will not be allowed to accompany the rest of the family on trips to the markets." She threatened lowly and Bilbo and Tauriel shared a meaningful look.

It was on the precipice of early morning when Belladonna decided to herd her family out to the West Shire Market, for her berry marmalade and strudels had been such a hit at the last, and amongst relatives, that it only took two days to empty the something around twenty large strudels and fifteen jars of marmalade that she had baked. Rose and Ivy had gotten up simultaneously, followed by Tauriel, Bilbo, and then a straggling Bungo who was whisked away from strapping on his suspenders by his eager wife not wanting to catch the afternoon crowd.

Bilbo had agreed wholeheartedly for the market in the late morning and the afternoon was a sight to behold and steer clear of. It became less of a market and more of a herding of cows with full arms and pockets. Another part of him was hoping, for his sister's sake, that the lemon ice cones were on sale or in stock for Tauriel held those sweets close to her heart and they always managed to bring a satisfied smile to her face.

The family reached the market as the sun was steadfastly rising, grapefruit juice splashed across the skies with orange jam and crumbly lemon cake intertwined, and Bilbo inhaled sharply, taking in a much needed breath for Belladonna's pace was nothing to laugh at.

"Alright, my darlings," Belladonna began in a clear commanding voice. "Rose and you, my dearest, will hunt down some pumpernickel, white, and honey bread from the stall in aisle eleven while Ivy and I shall sniff out those delectable apples and fine flours in aisle eight."

As their mother turned to them, Tauriel and Bilbo silently wished to be granted leave from obtaining any sort of merchandise or food but Belladonna had other ideas. "You two," She pointed a curved finger at them and Bilbo instantly stood up straighter. "I need new tongs and an iron scoop from the smithy, so if you please." She motioned for them to leave with a sweep of both of her hands.

Bilbo felt rather than saw Tauriel stiffen like a piece of bread left unwrapped for days. He supposed that his mother had more insight than he could ever hope to gain but left Belladonna's sketchy job assignments to be interpreted as benign.

"Well," He turned to face his stony sister. "Let us get this over with, shall we? There is nothing like visiting the blacksmiths' forges in the wee hours of the morning." Bilbo voiced sarcastically.

Tauriel nodded curtly, her voice inactive and footsteps mechanical as the two siblings headed towards the smithy's once again. It had been a number of weeks since Tauriel's minor panic frenzy and while Bilbo was still hopeful, the light in Tauriel's eyes seemed to have dwindled down into a dour spark by the four weeks mark; however, now, Bilbo took Tauriel's nervousness and detached mood as a defense against the onslaught of emotions she was probably warring at the moment.

The blacksmith was a dwarf, that much was to be anticipated, but Bilbo had not had the chance to ever meet one of the workers of the forge and was quite taken aback by the surliness and ferociousness of the dwarrow behind the merchandise stall. Sporting a intricately braided brown beard and a body covered in a maroon thick leather tunic and grey apron, the dwarven blacksmith greeted his new customer with a scar riddled face and frown.

"Good morn to you, Master Hobbit." Spoke the dwarf before, to Tauriel's shock and Bilbo's mild amusement, he turned to Tauriel with a grimace and hastily spit out a, "And to you as well, Elf - since my king seemed to think it was acceptable to speak to your kind."

Tauriel stood shocked and Bilbo almost rolled his eyes at the dramatics before he realized the vicious glare the dwarrow was sending her. Anger boiled in his stomach for his sister and at the insolence of the dwarf but when a thin, deceptively strong had coiled around his outstretched wrist, Bilbo halted in his thoughts.

Leave it be, Tauriel seemed to say, so Bilbo did. He would never understand the Elves and the Dwarves but maybe that is just the way it was supposed to be; even if it was an illogical and foolish way to continue life and if Bilbo had his way, both the Elves and the Dwarves would be going through mannerisms training with Grandma Baggins and then we'll see whose talking bad, starting wars, and spreading salacious rumors about whom.

"What can I do fer ye, Master Hobbit?" Questioned the blacksmith gruffly, his features darkened by the smoke billowing out the forge and the shadows of the looming Oak trees.

Hustling up to the stand, Bilbo sternly, but politely, told the blacksmith his request: one medium sized iron scooper and three sets of tongs, ranging from small to large. The blacksmith was a professional, in business _and_ customer relations (excluding Elves). Even as the dwarrow was wrapping up the bill and handing off the order to one of his partners, a fatter dwarf with bulging muscles and a thick mane of hair plus a beard that almost covered the entirety of his face, Bilbo was charmed by the unusual accent and brisk jokes made by the dwarf.

The gentlehobbit was learning more about dwarves everyday since the Ereborean King and company came to nest themselves in Netherfield Park.

"That'll be five silver pieces and three coppers, Master Hobbit." The blacksmith supplied when Bilbo motioned towards the written bill.

Accepting of the price, even if it was a little on the high side, Bilbo immediately set down the ordered amount and gave a formal nod to the blacksmith, who in turn blinked. "We shall be back sometime in the late afternoon?"

"Sounds like a plan," The dwarf agreed and before he could turn back, vivacious laughter was heard coming down the darkened path not yet touched by the awakening sky and the blacksmith quickly turned towards the source of the noise only to start.

Tauriel had the same reaction; however, unlike the blacksmith, she swiftly angled herself behind Bilbo has a parade of four unknown dwarves stepped into the vicinity, dressed in Royal garbs and all donning some sort of menacing weapon on their waist or back. To be frank, the Ereborean dwarves had a certain knack for fashion and drama, what with the way they seem to parade in everywhere, demanding the attention and power. Bilbo suspected it was apart of why they were seen as the richest, most powerful, and wealthiest dwarves of Middle Earth – those traits were hard to come by naturally as they did for the dwarves of Erebor.

"I already told you, mother, _uncle_, that I have no need to _another_ smithy stone. Mine is perfectly acceptable." Came the rowdy and lively voice of who Bilbo recognized as the prince.

It seemed that he wasn't the only one who realized this as the blacksmith speedily signaled for the three other dwarves to hustle outside in order to properly greet their king and his kin. Tauriel was as stiff and silent as a statue.

'_Goodness me!'_ Bilbo thought un-amusedly. '_She is acting like she is going to her death_!'

"You will do as I say and – oh, hello, Master and Mistress Baggins." Said the dwarven princess – Bilbo wracked around his brain to find her name for a gentle hobbit never forgets – _Dís_.

Tauriel remained quiet, like a stricken fool, and Bilbo took it upon himself to give a little bow in good manners and greet Lady Dís back with equal kindness. He did not look at the king, only the princess and the prince, who himself was looking particularly uncomfortable.

"What brings you to the forge, Master Baggins?" Ventured Dís, with a curious gleam in her eyes. "And so early as well. Seldom do we see hobbits visit the smithy so close to dawn."

Bilbo discreetly elbowed Tauriel, who jumped imperceptibly and shrugged light-heartedly at the princess in answer to her question. "My mother hates the crowdedness of the markets during the day time and just so happened to need new cooking ware." He answered truthfully, seeing no reason to lie.

Dís nodded in agreement, two long black tresses falling upon her chest, the rest braided not unlike a crown upon her head. "My brother shares the same sentiment," She explained with a narrow side-glance to said kin. "He is lucky that I am accustomed to rising early-"

"Aye," Interrupted Kíli suddenly, his eyebrows furrowed pensively and left hand snapping a beat to help him think. He pointedly ignored Dís's ruthless glare. "What was the saying I am trying to think of?" He asked no one in general and Bilbo could have rolled his eyes if not for his propriety.

"The early bird gets the worm," Tauriel interjected, her voice more soft than Bilbo had ever encountered and for a moment, the gentlehobbit was not entirely sure that he had heard correctly.

"Yes, that's it!" The Prince whooped before meeting Tauriel's eye and immediately quieting.

There was a deafening silence in which Bilbo _did_ roll his eyes. Slowly, he watched in surprise as his sister stared at the ground with a penetrating glare and the dwarf prince stare at _her_. Eventually, as the stifling silence dragged on, Bilbo's hands made their way to his hips and he jerked his gaze to the king, more than a little frazzled to find clear blue eyes already looking back.

He lifted his eyebrows as demandingly as he dared and shook his head at the king expectantly. '_Well?' _Thought Bilbo, unimpressed with the king's ire and reluctance to end this infuriating awkwardness. '_You have the power to stop this, so use it!"_

King Thorin just glared back, still as a stone and frigid as a block of ice, and Bilbo sighed loudly. Obviously, if the bloody king wouldn't do anything about the situation, he would.

Lightly taking Tauriel by the elbow, Bilbo shook his sister out of her daze and tugged her along down the road. "We must meet up with the others, my dear sister." He told her loudly and with purpose, sending a crooked smile her way to which she did not return.

"Yes," She muttered, heat coming to her cheeks. "I suppose you are correct, _Bibi_." She rumbled and Bilbo felt his own face flare in embarrassment and anger, ignoring the King Under the Mountain's lifted eyebrows.

"See if you get any pie now, Tauriel." He growled, his eyes squeezing together from his mortification. "I'll make sure you never see a blasted slice."

Bilbo turned to a smiling Lady Dís and gave a farewell bow - hand on his chest. Tauriel followed him with a curtsey. "We must take out leave now, your majesties and Master Dwalin," Bilbo announced in what he hoped came off as sincere tone.

Dwalin grunted in reply, Lady Dís tilted her head and, Bilbo hid a cheeky grin, Prince Kíli was still staring at Tauriel, trying got be discreet and failing impressively.

King Thorin however, the rotten apple in Bilbo's eye, merely quirked an eyebrow at Bilbo, as if he were some _unhandsome_ and raggedy gentlehobbit. Furiously, Bilbo whipped his head to his sister, but not after sending a quick, short, heated glared at the dwarf king.

"Come sister, let us beat the sun. I am already _not handsome enough to tempt,_ so let us not make my predicament any worse!" He hissed and spun on his heel, pulling his sister down the road with wrathful energy and a commendable scowl plastered on his face.

From behind him he heard a vague choking sound and a sense of victory washed over him like a tidal wave.

'_Good,'_ Bilbo crowed internally, '_Let that pompous blighter feel like the arrogant sod he is!'_

"I am impressed by your audacity, brother," Tauriel said proudly as Bilbo stormed away and she followed, a bright, toothy grin blooming on her face, "But do you think it wise, to torment the most powerful king of the East so?" She asked playfully and Bilbo's frown only deepened.

"Wise or not, I will never let someone talk down to me like that, just as I am sure the king wouldn't either!" He huffed as he continued walking, secretly hoping that the dwarven ruler would not be at the blacksmith still when he went back to pick up his merchandise.

"And that amiable Prince is related to that oaf!" Bilbo cried, walking faster and leaving his sister to quietly giggle in the aftermath of his rage. "What ever happened?"

**A/N:**

_**Thanks for reading! Sorry for the crap chapter but KILIEL thou. Next chapter will have more of our fav king and hobbit. Rest assured, dear ones!**_

_**comments are appreciated.**_


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